culture

Who am I? Perhaps, nothing. Sometimes I lie on the floor, other times you gently pick me up with your ink-stained fingers. My pupils often dilate with the darkness inside your caves while you destroy my skin hard. Other times, my eyes cannot stop blinking when somewhere in the corner I open up a casket of your most prized possessions. I see your wounded ego when I move on. It often needs my medicine and that’s my ecstatic pain. Sometimes you crush me hard and other times you burn me when you think you don’t need me.

Yes, I’m just a paper, made of wood, sometimes carelessly lying on the floor, other times kept loose on the table. You scribble hard with your pen and destroy my skin often. Yet, you need me and I stand tall and high in the files and inside the drawers. I treasure your mind, heart, and soul. I’m a precious paper, made of wood. Handle me with care!

I was silent, tight-lipped, unmoved, and stood firm. But I held a storm inside me Eksil, just looked at you, stuck in a daze.

My eyes had dreams, the dreams had anger. I was caged inside, tied down by chains of hopes and expectations. They were too heavy for me to carry now. My heart bled deep carrying this burden. There were scars and wounds all over and I saw them every morning in mirror; hid them with richly embroidered net veil draped over my shoulders. So, I was very angry and you could see through in ‘silence’.

You were there for me in silence, and bore with me not knowing, not advising, not curing, nor healing. Just stood there.

“Sometimes cure to our wounds comes in the most strangest ways and mysterious faces.”

-This is Julia, main character in my novel, talking about “the most mysterious face”, Eksil. I would love to know what do you think.

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*Character and events narrated in this story are purely fictitious. Any resemblance to real person or event is entirely coincidental.

Yes friends…a passage, a journey! I’m here to unfold the chronicles of my journey as an expat in the world’s most beautiful land of northern lights and midnight sun.

Norway is a beautiful country with a rich cultural heritage, the best of resources and a decent standard of living. Its epic landscapes, spectacular mountains, the unspoiled nature of its cities, towns and farmlands, and peaceful lifestyle can make anyone fall in love with her. Perhaps, I too fell in love. And if you call it a ‘mistake’, yes I made the ‘mistake’ of falling in love because when you start loving, you ignore the dissimilarities and so the love is called ‘blind’.

I moved to the country with a small child in my arms, unaware of the culture, unaware of the people and the potential difficulties. A few days, then months passed by. I gradually felt lonely and resisted the stillness and darkness of the places here. I missed my family, felt nostalgic about my old lifestyle, native language and society. A moment came when I wanted to run into the dark, silent street next to my house, and scream at the passers-by “talk to me, anybody, please talk to me, hello…” Phew! Those were difficult times in my life. It took me nearly 6 months to get adjusted to the Norwegian culture and lifestyle. Was it culture shock? Was it resistance to my new lifestyle and ways? Not sure! But I strongly resisted and wasn’t happy.

As an expatriate, I and my family faced worst of our times initially. When I started looking for a job, I was told: ‘We had our own struggles, you have your own’, ‘I can help you’ but after a few months the reply comes- ‘Oh! I’m afraid, I can’t help you’

Things looked very strange to me, people also looked strange. Or I expected too much of them. Had I been in their place, I would never unduly raise anyone’s hopes, tantalise someone or give them the cold shoulder (if I could not help someone). My struggle wasn’t just this. I saw people’s eyes rolling away from me, heard their cold replies and experienced their indifferent attitudes.

Life moved on! I didn’t rest till the time I discovered something worthwhile. The requirements of a new work culture were not easy for me – create a professional network, find the right sources, sell your expertise and the list goes on. Language was another problem. I began my journey from scratch. No one told me anything; no one helped me with anything. I worked it out for myself.

I began to sell my website designing services. I started as a freelancer, initially working on short assignments, later on full projects and gradually my work increased as companies approached me. I looked at myself as ‘one-woman-team’ and later as a ‘company’. Things looked promising to me. My clients increased and I grew professionally in a way as never before.

Today, I run my own company near the massive town hall building. My eyes are a little wrinkled now; my forehead lines are a bit deeper than 10 years ago and I have a few grey hairs. But I’ve achieved a sense of fulfilment. I have rediscovered myself, my potential and I know who I am. I think that during these years I wasn’t just finding a job or friendship or anyone to talk to me, I was perhaps trying to discover myself. Perhaps it was my rebirth in this new land. The new life looked complex to me. I was afraid of it in the beginning. But it was a blessing in disguise.

Today, whenever I see a youngster running for work from pillar to post, my heart softens a little. Then I think “Oh! This is her best training. She’s not just looking for a regular income but she’s looking for herself, her identity. Let her do – I must not help. She’ll discover the best of herself.”

Experiences, mistakes and failures in life make you discover your inner strength. They make you rather than break you. Living a life abroad, especially as a woman, can be the most positive thing in your life. Don’t be afraid, just face it! You’ll make a sweetest home away from your own home country.

*Character and events narrated in this story are purely fictitious. Any resemblance to real person or event is entirely coincidental.